…Young Man, Go West! December 9, 2006
Posted by John Hodson in : Film & DVD Reviews, Westerns , trackbackThe fire’s a dyin’ down, the cattle are peaceful, and those beans have yet to do their work; guess it’s time, little pards, (oh, do get on with it!) for a look at three more westerns…
Jeremiah Johnson (1972)
“Ain’t this somethin’? I told my pap an’ mam I was going to be a mountain man; acted like they was gut-shot. ‘Make your life go here, son. Here’s where the people is. Them mountains is for Injuns ‘n wild men.’ ‘Mother Gue’, I says, ‘the Rocky Mountains is the marrow o’ the world,’ and by God, I was right.”
John Milius was co-author of the screenplay for Sydney Pollack’s 1972 mountain man epic Jeremiah Johnson alongside Edward Anhalt. Who wrote what, I couldn’t really say, but Milius’ stamp lies on most of the rich dialogue that runs like a skein of pure gold in this story that is also notable for its stunning cinematography of the towering mountain ranges of Utah.
We first see our eponymous hero (Robert Redford), a young man, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, fresh from the army and the Mexican American War of the 1840’s. He’s determined to start a new life by becoming a trapper and hunter; one of the legendary mountain men. Johnson buys his supplies, a 30 calibre Hawkin rifle and makes his way into a vast wilderness, where he’ll either flourish or die lonely.
The greenhorn discovers his new environment to be incredibly hostile, and is just about to throw in his lot when he happens across a grizzled old bear hunter, ‘Bear Claw’ Chris Lapp (a really nice vignette by Will Geer). Lapp takes pity on the naif and teaches him the raw basics of staying alive. And staying alive is the trick, for Johnson faces not only nature ‘red in tooth and claw’, but also Crow indians whose land he will be trapping on. Land is life; it’s possession, to paraphrase John Lennon, ‘nine tenths of the problem’.
Leaving Lapp and striking out on his own, Johnson comes across a settler’s cabin, recently raided by Crow. There he finds a woman driven mad after the slaughter of her son and daughter, and another child who is mute. Of the woman’s husband there is no sign. The mountain man reluctantly takes the boy after a plea by the woman, in a rare moment of lucidity. Later he also acquires (in an echo of The Searchers) a bride, a sullen, plain, Flathead, ’Swan’.
Against all the odds, Johnson, decides to settle down with his new family. Swan blossoms and very soon he achieves something he’s been struggling to find but has stumbled on by sheer accident - contentment. But back into his life rides the U.S. Cavalry. Searching for lost settlers, they turn to Johnson to help guide them and again, reluctantly, the mountain man agrees. To get to the wagon train in time they must cross and therefore desecrate a Crow burial ground…and Johnson must thereafter face the wrath of the tribe and their ‘big medicine’.
At this point the film, scripted from a combination of the Vardis Fisher novel Mountain Man and Raymond W. Thorp’s story Crow Killer, switches tone entirely. Pollack orchestrates Johnson’s transformation from a man defending what is his, to a vengeful and bloody killer with great aplomb. We see the breathtakingly savage killing of a war party, a shocking scene though without any really graphic violence, and Redford, pretty boy looks and all, is convincing, as he becomes a ‘dead man’, devoid of any emotion, any pity, any hope.
Johnson, once an irritant to the Crow and an intruder, is now a targetted by the tribe, who send out brave after brave to match him in single combat, anywhere, anyplace, at any time. Killing many braves is another test for the mountain man, and for the Crow, their courage and manliness can only be measured by the strength of their enemy - and Jeremiah Johnson is a mighty enemy.
The story seems to become a simple allegory for life itself; can any man face the day to day trials of existing, of putting bread on the table, of loss and emotional trauma and survive, his wits intact? And, of course, the central question; what’s the point of it all, why do we exist? What’s it all for? Johnson meets Chris Lapp again, who looks more God-like than ever in furs and long white beard. ‘T’were it worth the trouble?’ asks the Deity / Lapp. ‘Huh? What trouble?’ says Johnson jutting out his jaw, daring life to smack his chin good and hard again.
Tired, and haunted, Johnson returns to the cabin where he discovered the mad woman and the boy. He finds it now occupied by another terrified settler who has put his family in the grain store, at the mountain man’s approach, for safety. Johnson looks at the upturned faces of the women and children sadly, and tells the settler ‘It won’t do any good’. What’s the message here? That we should stop hating each other and get on instead with the business of living together? That when tempted to dance to the tune of the military, you should run, and run fast? Vietnam-era American films were full of this kind of stuff; but if the message lacks subtlety, it’s probably understandable.
Jeremiah Johnson has been labelled an ‘eco-western’, yet there’s no huge ‘man bad, nature good’ subtext to be found in the movie, though it is, surely more than just a simple tale of one man’s struggle to stay alive in a beautiful but deadly environment. The Utah locations provide a blinding cathedral of snow, they give the film the feeling of a vast emptiness that can both embrace or destroy. Johnson is insignificant in a world such as this, his battle with the Crow the struggle of ants, and world looks on, as it always has and will, without judgement, or pity.
Pollack’s film is pretty good, but has probably suffered over the years because potential viewers may now be expecting some kind of Grizzly Adams adventure. Thank ’Chris Lapp’, there’s none of that here; Redford is not the best - nor is he the worst - actor in the world, nor does he have a huge range, but within certain perameters he’s always been more than quite watchable. Like many stars, he was protective of his image, and despite a beard, he still looks like, well, the ’70s movie star Robert Redford, and could have done with at least a haircut in keeping with the mid-19th century. His female fans would have run riot and sacked the cinema.
Will Geer is utterly superb in a his small (Godlike) role, and Delle Bolton, as ‘Swan’, is charming. Special mention for Stefan Gierasch as the somehow achingly sad ’Del Gue’, because every film like this needs someone who can speak authentic frontier gibberish (especially when it’s so well written). But, as said, the real star is Utah. Did I mention Will Geer as the Almighty? Well, I like him…
This is a disc produced in the early days of the DVD format by Warners, and still comes (if such things bother you) in a snapper (at least my R1 did). Presented in anamorphic 2.35:1 Panavision, the picture is pretty good, with decent colour and contrast. Warners have also retained the original overture and entr’acte music; nothing special by John Rubenstein (I actually prefer Tim McIntire’s song). There’s a little print damage and dirt on show, particular in the last reel with some white speckling, but nothing too serious. The sound is also acceptable; could be worse (it’s a little thin), could be improved on. There’s a back slapping, brief, featurette, a trailer and some production notes.
Warners would do much better today, and there have been some hints of Jeremiah Johnson coming again, possibly in ‘07 in a Robert Redford box set. I’ll also have Downhill Racer and The Candidate please.
Another potential double-dip then; I’ll be there for more of Jeremiah Johnson.
Along Came Jones (1945)
In 1945, a still youthful looking Gary Cooper, produced and starred in Along Came Jones, a witty and exciting comedy western that made the most of the 44-year-old star’s talents. The film was written by Nunnally Johnson, an urbane and intelligent former New York Post journalist who’d made his mark in Hollywood scripting for John Ford (The Prisoner of Shark Island, The Grapes of Wrath), Henry King (Jesse James), William Wellman (Roxie Hart) and many, many others.
Such was Johnson’s reputation by the end of WWII, that not only does he get a rather large screen-writing credit (at a time when ‘written by’ was usually tucked away with ‘Associate Producer’), but the title shows it is Nunnally Johnson’s Along Came Jones. Impressive stuff.
All the better then that this amiable western tale boasts an intelligent and quip-filled script, and while it’s a ‘comedy western’, it never forgets that it is really a ‘western comedy; the jokes subservient to the story and not the masters of it. ‘Always shoot ‘em in the right eye’ Cooper is advised, ‘Spoils their aim…’ Made me laugh.
Our tale starts with evil bad guy Monte Jarrad (deliciously played by the evil Dan Duryea), wreaking havoc while holding up a stagecoach, stealing a saddle bag full of loot and getting winged in the process. The law wants Jarrad, a quick shooting tyrant who holds the town of Payneville in his thrall, and puts a price on his head and that of his dull-witted sidekick.
So…into Payneville rides Melody Jones (Cooper), a man described as a ‘butter-fingered gun juggler’ and his partner George (the brilliant Bill Demerest). The good folk of Payneville haven’t seen Jarrad for some time, they spot ‘MJ’ stamped on Jones’s saddlebags, and his sidekick does indeed seem to be a few cartridges short of a full revolver. Two and two quickly make five.
Jarrad’s girl (the eye-candy that is Loretta Young), does her bit to finger Jones as Jarrad to aid her man’s escape, but then they fall for each other, and all hell breaks loose as Jones attempts to (a) stay alive, (b) prise the girl away from a man she describes as ‘mean..and getting meaner’, (c) neatly sidestep the bullets of Jarrad, his gang, the sherrif, and a private detective.
Johnson’s script manages to cram alot of narrative into the 90 minutes run time, but it never seems forced or contrived. Cooper is excellent; he was as delightfully a sly light comedian, adept at handling bits of business, as he was terrific in action roles. And this son of a real westerner always seemed at home on a horse or wearing a stetson.
Hack director Stuart Heisler’s helming is competent. If I have a criticism it’s that some of the action seems a little studio bound, but the cast and the writing make up for that, and for a war-weary America, this dleightful piece of fluff was probably just the tonic.
Along Came Jones is available in R1 as part of the MGM ‘Western Legends’ series. There is good news and bad. The good is that the transfer isn’t half bad; nice & sharp, decent contrast and no signs of white blooming or edge enhancement. The bad is that MGM haven’t done a great deal by way of restoring the print. There’s a deal of damage, speckling, a little dirt, some ‘wonky’ frames, lines and what appears to be water damage. Not disasterous, but it could have been better. The mono sound is okay and the only extra is a trailer.
When The Daltons Rode (1940)
George Marshall started his Hollywood career churning out westerns in 1916, and he finished some six decades later still knocking ‘em out for TV. One of the great solid and reliable directors of the movie industry, there are some little gems in his CV including The Blue Dahlia, (due to be released in the UK soon by the way), Destry Rides Again and The Ghost Breakers (probably Bob Hope’s finest hour).
And then we have his 1940 oater When The Daltons Rode, part of the Universal Western Series. Topping the bill is Randolph Scott, later to make quite a name for himself in this genre, but not courtesy of this film. More of that later.
When The Daltons Rode was fashioned at a time when the public were eating up westerns with a ‘Robin Hood’ twist. Henry King had scored a huge and deserved hit with his film Jesse James in which the brave James boys - Tyrone Power and Henry Fonda - were forced into a life of crime by the real bad guys, carpet baggers / banks / ranchers (delete as applicable). And so, Universal figured that anything that Fox could do…
Thus we have the four Dalton brothers - played here by burly Broderick Crawford, the usually hissable Brian Donlevy (but wearing the white bad guy’s hat if you see what I mean), Stuart Erwin and Frank Albertson - being railroded by all and sundry, forced to leave their ailing Ma, and in the case of Bob Dalton (Crawford) his girl Kay Francis. The truth - for, gentle reader, the Daltons really did ride - was rather less savoury but then again it wouldn’t have been a family oriented shoot-’em-up western without a little embellishment or the addition of Andy Devine as Dalton buddy and comic relief ‘Ozark Jones’. Jones, by the by, has woman trouble. Just go back and read that again, make sure you saw it right. Andy Devine. Woman trouble. Yep, that’s right.
I’ll return to that billing. Randolph Scott plays ‘Tod Jackson’ a tenderfoot lawyer who moseys into town, falls for Bob’s gal just as the gang are forced to flee. There’s a great moment midway through the film when Scott takes Francis into his arms, tells her that surely they’ve waited long enough, that their love cannot wait and the long gone Bob cannot still be enamoured of the girl he’s left behind? At that very same moment a brick crashes through the window with a note attached and a rider gallops away. ‘Don’t forget you’re still my girl’ Bob’s scribbled. Damn! And Jackson’s ardour is suitably and understandably cooled…
But Scott is simply there as window dressing, as a box-office draw. He’s hardly in the darned film and when he is it is to indulge in some pretty ropey dramatics.
Despite it being a second rate western there are some things to recommend When The Daltons Rode not least of which is a series of quite excellent stunts with the Daltons holding up trains, leaping on to moving carriages from horses and vice-versa, from bridges, and on and off stagecoaches. For the latter the legendary Yakima Canutt once again pulls the stunt he made famous in Ford’s Stagecoach only this time it’s not an indian who falls beneath the horses and stagecoach, it’s Bob Dalton. Bob plunges ‘neath the hooves and the stage, grabs the carriage’s trailing straps, pulls himself up and completes the hold-up. Indiana Jones eat your heart out.
When the boys leap on to a passing train - seriously, it’s presented almost as: ‘There’s a train! Lets rob it!’ - they find it stuffed to the baggage car with armed to the teeth marshals and deputies out for their hides. Nonetheless, in a scene which would later be emulated in Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid, they carry out their hold up, then steal the posse’s horses, on the backs of which they jump from the train into a river. It’s breathless stuff and gallops along at a frantic pace.
Even the ending is redolent of the Newman / Redford romp (Bill Goldman would probably call it a ‘homage’), though ‘Butch Cassidy’ didn’t have the film’s marquee star popping back in again at the end, almost as an afterthought, to grab the gal.
Universal’s R1 DVD is the usual for this seemingly stalled series; no extras and a decent if far from stellar transfer. The mono sound is adequate.
In truth When The Daltons Rode is not a great classic western, but it’s fair, good natured fun for those of us that remember the blue remembered hills of childhood, the fringed cowboy hats (’Kiss Me Quick’ removed when your older brother has done with it) and chrome silver six shooters, accompanied by much slapping of thighs as we galloped into sunsets on endless summer evenings. Of course, home in time for a glass of Dandelion and Burdock plus a hastily slapped together salmon paste and butter doorstep.
And we had to water the horses…
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